


new and a bit alarming

by georgiehensley



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Archery, Banter, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14984132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiehensley/pseuds/georgiehensley
Summary: illya is a russian prince training to take on his father's role as king. he must take his father's place on a trip to america, and finds himself distracted by handsome prince napoleon.he also helps the prince practice his archery skills, because they're absolutelyterrible.





	new and a bit alarming

**Author's Note:**

> i can never tell if i'm any good at writing summaries, but no line from the fic felt fitting enough, so there's some background for ya.
> 
> basically, i saw [this post](http://mamalaz.tumblr.com/post/133806449757/the-man-from-uncle-au-in-which-the-boys-are) on tumblr and have wanted to write something based on it for ages now. so, i finally did. i thought it would be its own thing, but it's more of an extension/my take on what's going on in the gifset. also took a smidgen of inspiration from princess diaries 2, because why not?
> 
> title from "something there" from _beauty and the beast_.

_you have to practice so you can take on your father's crown_. illya repeats these words to himself like a mantra every single day, reminding him to stay on his best behavior as he represents his kingdom throughout his international endeavors. his father is unable to make the trips himself at his old age, so illya must go in his honor, almost as though he is preparing the rest of the world for the day that he becomes king and will have to make these same trips all over again, under a new title.

he knows he must stay focused on his training, and yet he cannot help but feel distracted as he stays at a castle in america. there's a prince there around illya's own age, also appearing to be in some sort of training as he's always busy whenever illya sees him on the grounds. even so, he'll make time to speak with illya, even while his staff begs him not too. (it's amusing how little respect the prince seems to have for authority; illya wonders how he could ever make a good king.)

worst of all, the prince - napoleon, because americans can never be _original_ \- continually tries to drag illya into his various schemes, like the one night they snuck down to the kitchen for a sweet, late night snack like they were children staying out past curfew. (illya still doesn't know why napoleon wanted him to join, but he didn't totally hate it, either. the freshly baked cookies were sweet, and when the two ran back upstairs right when they heard voices, grabbing as many sweets as they could to take with them just before leaving, illya felt a rush of adrenaline he hadn't had in _years_.)

 _focus_ , illya thinks to himself as he walks through the gardens, finding himself getting distracted yet again by thoughts of the prince. his daily walks outside are meant to clear his head, and yet all he can do is think of the prince, so it seems.

"peril!"

speaking of which--

"so kind of you to join me for my archery lessons," napoleon says with a kind smile. his instructor looks impatient behind him. illya returns the smile.

"i was just taking a walk," the blond explains. he opens his mouth to excuse himself, but napoleon speaks again before he can.

"wonderful. come, stay," he insists. "i'll show you how it's done."

"you sound confident for someone who is still in training," illya comments as he steps back into a better spot to watch napoleon in action (and far enough away from the target that illya should be safe from any ill-directed arrows). napoleon scoffs.

"i'll have you know i'm the best archer in this kingdom," he argues. "isn't that right, pierre?" but the man behind him is long gone, his session with napoleon going long over the alotted time slot. napoleon shrugs, turning back to set up his shot.

"are you sure you should be doing this without trainer present?" illya asks.

"i know what i'm doing," napoleon says, pulling his arm back as he aims, letting go and--

it goes right past the target, nearly striking a nearby groundskeeper in the leg. she turns to glare at the young prince.

"sorry, analise!" napoleon calls out. the woman shakes her head and stomps off. illya chuckles softly to himself.

"think you can do better?" napoleon asks, challenging him. illya shakes his head and steps in closer.

"i can help you," he says.

"you've learned archery?"

" _Да_. russians are best archers in the world."

"hmm."

illya smiles. "here," he steps around napoleon so that he's standing behind him. gently, he touches his arms - one hand under napoleon's right elbow, the other under his left arm. "lift your arms. keep shoulders back and head up straight. eye on target. pull back, and let go." napoleon does as told, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes before letting go of the arrow. a loud _thwing!_ has his eyes snapping right back open - bullseye.

"see? best archers _and_ archery trainers," illya says.

"don't get cocky on me, peril," napoleon says, turning to face the other prince, only for his breath to hitch as he notices their close proximity. illya is stiff as a board, unable to move nor tear his gaze away from where it drifts down napoleon's face, down to his pink lips that look oh so--

"solo!" a feminine voice cuts into the silence between them and napoleon jumps back, the pair turning to face whoever interrupted them. by the open door to the palace stands gabrielle teller, napoleon's consort whom he's supposed to marry in under a month's time. "late for lunch again?"

"sorry, gaby!" napoleon calls back. "illya was helping me with my archery skills!"

"are you any good now?"

"well--"

gaby shakes her head. "get changed. your mother expects you in the dining hall in five minutes!"

once she's gone, illya scoffs and shakes his head.

"that is no way to speak to a prince," he says. napoleon shrugs.

"you get used to it," he says. "well, thanks for the help, peril. i'll see you around." he starts to walk away, bow still in hand and case of arrows slung over his back, before he comes to a sudden stop, turning back around. "you're supposed to be at that lunch too, right?" illya smiles.

"yes, i am," he says. napoleon smiles.

"so, i'll see you there?"

"yes, you will."

napoleon's smile turns into a grin. "good."

illya nods, smiling as he watches him go. his father's voice suddenly cuts into his thoughts, reminding him of his father's stern warnings before he left for his trip -

_be careful around prince napoleon. he is nothing but trouble._

illya bites the inside of his cheek. _napoleon is not trouble,_ he thinks in response to his father's words. _he's nice, and kind... he's a friend._

 _or maybe more_ , a voice in the back of his head chimes in. illya shakes his head, willing the thought away.

it's when his head is finally clear again that he realizes he's still outside, and not at lunch. at that realization, he bolts towards the palace, hoping he won't appear too sweaty and exhausted once he gets there.


End file.
